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While She Slept
By lizzi-mae21

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Category: Post-HBP, Three Little Words Challenge (2011-1), SIYE Challenges new, Three Little Words Challenge (2011-1)
Genres: Fluff
Warnings: None
Story is Complete
Rating: G
Reviews: 9
Summary: Harry was going to tell her when the time was right (hopefully once Voldemort was defeated), but all didn't go as planned.

“Gin?” he had asked her softly as they stared at the stars on the hill at the Burrow.

“Yeah, Harry?”

“I love you.” He had almost chickened out, afraid that she might be upset, but instead she had laughed. “What are you laughing at? I’m being serious!”
Hitcount: Story Total: 6018

Disclaimer: Harry Potter Publishing Rights © J.K.R. Note the opinions in this story are my own and in no way represent the owners of this site. This story subject to copyright law under transformative use. No compensation is made for this work.

Author's Notes:
For once I actually came up with the story before the title, it took me a really long time to come up with one that worked, but I like it. There is a quote from a disney movie- if you can guess the movie you get bragging rights! And there is a passage from The Deathly Hallows, pages 115-116 (American version), it is marked by asterisks . Thank you Jennyelf for doing the editing, and nyladnam04 your suggestions.


“Daddy, did you know the stars are really fireflies that got stuck up in the sky?”

Arthur’s eyes twinkled as he spoke to his young daughter. “Is that so, Ginnygirl?”

“Uh- huh. I told Percy, but he said I was wrong . When I asked how he knew ,he didn’t so I knew I was right.” She finished with a sharp nod of her head.

Ginny smiled at the memory of her five-year-old self. She knew better now, of course, but she liked the idea of fireflies better than balls of gas burning billions of kilometers away. The stars had always been there and they always would be; even when they couldn’t be seen. They were constant, but she couldn’t say the same for other things.

She lay in the grass on her favorite hill outside of the Burrow staring up at the night sky, thinking. So much had already changed in her life and so much more was still to come.

Harry had kissed her in front of the whole common room. From then on- well for the few weeks following that day, they were a couple and it had seemed right, like it was always supposed to have happened. But then Dumbledore had died and Harry thought if he and Ginny weren’t dating, she wouldn’t be in as much danger. Perhaps he was right, but that didn’t mean Ginny had to like it.

It had been awkward since Harry had arrived at the Burrow. Ginny had tried to talk to him, but every time they were interrupted by Fleur and her mum asked for help with wedding preparations or Ron and Hermione pulling him away to get ready for their trip. At her lowest point, she thought he was avoiding her. What she wanted to do was just kiss him and see how he reacted. Maybe she could kiss him tomorrow on his birthday, she mused- No that wouldn’t be appropriate -. They’d broken up after all. But still……

“Mind if I join you?” someone asked, breaking into Ginny’s thoughts.

She looked up at the new arrival. “Sure, Harry.”

He lay in the grass next to her. “Sorry I haven’t talked to you yet. I’ve been trying since I got here, but with the wedding and planning….” His voice faded away, not wanting to admit that he was leaving. “So, do you come here often?”

“I live here, you prat.” She playfully threw a handful of grass at him.

He laughed as he brushed it out of his unruly black hair. “You know what I mean.”

With a smirk, Ginny turned to look back up at the night sky. “You mean do I lay here and look at the stars? Yes, when I need to think.”

“What were you thinking about?” He rolled onto his side to look at her.

She debated, for a moment, whether or not to tell him the truth. “What to give you for your birthday.”

“You don’t have to give me anything, Gin.”

“No, but I’m going to, so you’re just going to have to accept it,” she teased.

Harry smiled at her. “You’ve been out here since supper. What were you really thinking about?”

Ginny didn’t answer for awhile. She didn’t really want to tell Harry that she was thinking about him leaving, but he would probably guess anyway. “When are you leaving, Harry?”

He jerked slightly at her response, but didn’t seem surprised by her question. “I don’t know, probably after your birthday.”

“And when will you be back?” She couldn’t look at him for fear that she would start crying, so instead she rolled over and lay against him.

Harry pulled her back against him, just like he had always done when they sat beside the Black Lake. “You know I don’t know that.”

“What if you don’t come back?” she whispered. Her worst fear had leapt out of her mouth without Ginny being able to stop it.

He sighed. “I wish I could tell you that I’ll always come back, but you know I can’t promise that.” He kissed the top of her head. “If I can, I will always come back to you. We just need to have faith that we’ll all make it. Faith is a bluebird you see from afar, it’s as real and as sure as the first evening star, you can’t touch it, or buy it, or wrap it up tight, but it’s there just the same, making things turn out right,”

“When did you become a poet?” she giggled.

“Oh, that,” Harry blushed slightly. “Er, that was on a Muggle movie my cousin used to watch.”

She nodded and closed her eyes to think about what he just said. Before she knew it she was asleep.


“Ginny, wake up!” Harry poked her in the side and gently shook her shoulder, but she just wrapped her arms more tightly around him.

The black haired wizard sighed in frustration. He’d have to carry her back to the house. He gently lifted the redhead off the ground and began his slow walk back to the Burrow. The young wizard looked up at the night sky, thanking his lucky stars that none of her brothers were outside to take the mickey out of him.

When they reached the stairs, he thought he heard her mumble something, but she still didn’t wake up. As a result he carried her up to her bedroom on the first floor landing. She was supposed to be sharing the room with Hermione, but he suspected that his best friend was with Ron somewhere.

He carefully laid her on the bed so she wouldn’t wake up, her eyes remaining closed. When he was sure no one was watching, he leaned down to kiss her on her forehead. “I love you, Ginny,” he whispered and quickly tiptoeing out of the room.


“Ginny wake up!” someone said as they poked her in the side.

“Go away Hermione,” she mumbled sleepily into her pillow.

“Ginny come on get up!” the witch said, hitting her with a pillow. “Your mum wants help baking Harry’s birthday cake.”

“Fine, I’ll be down in a bit,” she grumbled. Ginny didn’t want to get up. She’d been having such a good dream: Harry had said “I love you, Ginny”. What Ginny wanted to do was daydream about the future she and Harry could have- at least if he really did love her, but her mum could probably figure out that she was thinking about Harry.

All day she helped her mum in the kitchen preparing for Harry’s birthday dinner. She had to admit it was a nice break from getting ready for the wedding. The golden trio was in and out of the kitchen all day and every time Harry spotted Ginny, she could swear she could see a blush on his cheeks. Maybe he really did have feelings for her.

Ginny looked out the above the sink and saw the trio coming toward the house. Maybe if she hurried, she could make it to her bedroom before they got there. “Mum, can I go to the bathroom?”

Her mum didn’t even look up from the cake she was decorating. “Sure Ginny, you can take a break for a bit if you like.”

Without another word, she was gone up to her bedroom. She snuck a glance out the door when she heard the stairs creak and Ron and Hermione bickering. “Harry, will you come in here a moment?”

Ginny looked up into Harry’s face, took a deep breath, and said “Happy seventeenth.”


She was looking at him steadily.

“Nice view,” he said feebly, pointing toward the window.

She ignored this.

“I couldn’t think what to get you,” she said.

“You didn’t have to get me anything.”

She disregarded this too.

“I didn’t know what would be useful. Nothing too big, because you wouldn’t be able to take it with you.”

She took a step closer to him.

“So then I thought, I’d like you to have something to remember me by, you know, if you meet some veela when you’re off doing whatever you’re doing.”

“I think dating opportunities are going to be pretty thin on the ground, to be honest.”

“There’s the silver lining I’ve been looking for,” she whispered. Then she was kissing him as she’d never kissed him before, and Harry was kissing her back. Iit was blissful oblivion, better than firewhiskey.

The door banged open behind them and they jumped apart.

“Oh,” said Ron pointedly. “Sorry.”

“Ron!” Hermione was just behind him, slightly out of breath. There was a strained silence. Then Ginny said in a flat little voice,

“Well, happy birthday anyway, Harry.” ***

Harry, Ron, and Hermione left the next day after the wedding. Ginny was worried constantly, but all year she remembered what Harry had said about having faith. The dream of Harry telling her he loved her kept her going for the next nine months.


Harry thought back to the kiss he’d shared with Ginny in her room on his birthday. He almost told her that he loved her then, but Ron butted in. Then again that was probably a good thing since that would have defeated the purpose of breaking up with her in the first place.

The first time Harry had told Ginny that he loved her-- at least when she wasn’t asleep-- was a week after her seventeenth birthday.

“Gin?” he had asked her softly as they stared at the stars on the hill at the Burrow.

“Yeah, Harry?”

“I love you.” He had almost chickened out, afraid that she might be upset, but instead she had laughed. “What are you laughing at? I’m being serious!”

“I know you are. I was just wondering if you’d ever tell me that when you knew I was awake.”

He stared at her. “You mean you heard me last year?”

“Yep, but I thought it was just a great dream.” She had smiled and turned in his arms to kiss him. “I love you, too.”

Harry smiled as he recalled the memory.

Suddenly he saw a flash of red and a petite redhead barreled into his chest, knocking the air out of his lungs.

“Daddy, James is being mean to me! I asked Mummy if we could catch fireflies tonight and he said I would just kill them!”

A nine year old boy with unruly black hair, like his father, and brown eyes, like his mother sprinted into the room after his younger sister. “You always do Lily! You always put them in that stupid jar and then they die!”

“We don’t stay ‘stupid,’ James!”

“You just did!”

She stuck her tongue out at him. “At least I don’t squish them!”

Harry knew he should intervene, but he was content to just watch his children.

“I don’t squish them. Albus does!”

Albus and Ginny, who had heard the argument, came into the living room to see what was going on. Albus, upset at being accused of squishing the bugs, joined in the argument.

“Can’t handle your kids, Potter? Do I always have to take care of them?” she teased, sighing dramatically.

“You know you’re best at it.” He kissed her cheek. “I love you Gin.”

“Love you too.” She kissed him back, on the lips.

The Potter children, who had stopped arguing, said “Eeeew!” in unison and promptly pulled their parents outside to play and catch fireflies, happy to be together.
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